Heyna's Tale - Chapter Four (cont.)
Beoford
The river bank views had long since lost their interest, and the other passengers’ talk was all shipping, business and money. Heyna remembered Alvertos’ admonition to pay attention and learn about the Beoford Erda, but she couldn’t follow their conversations and didn’t understand half the jargon. No one seemed in the least interested in her. Some were even rude and laughed at her behind her back. Many of them had Gryph and Quetz ornamentation and a couple even had clothes, which she thought was weird. She, of course, had only her glasses and her natural fur. The, “pretty,” ones, as she thought of them, looked down their teeth at her.
Heyna sat alone on the deck near the bow and opened the packet that Alvertos had given her. There was a note, some svella bark, and a little book, The Traveler’s Guide to Beoford, Illustrated by Jasja Resra. Heyna turned the book over and over, examining its blue leather binding and its strange Gryphish font stamped in silver. A guide to the Erda city by a Dreki author? She couldn’t puzzle that one out.
She opened the note and read it.
“Heyna, I’m sorry that I couldn’t travel all the way to Beoford with you. I have urgent business in the city. But I’ve included a guidebook for you. I know, it’s a paradox. I found it in a smelly old bookshop in Merkataritza. I think the author might have been a cook. But her observations of the Beoford Erda are very accurate, even though the book is ancient. Keep an open mind and don’t be too discouraged. You could do worse than make a life for yourself among your people in Beoford.”
My people! He means River Clan! Hmph! My people are Paititi Erda. My people have been serving the Quetz for more than two hundred years. My people. She thought of her parents. My parents are dead, but my people, Jaasi and Xico are still alive. She was determined to keep her people alive.
She opened the little guidebook. There was a printer’s mark, but no other information about when it might have been published. Inside the cover the front endpaper was printed with an intricate map of Beoford. The city sat in the midst of wooded foothills on a wide plateau. Wavy lines indicated water all around and through it. The city center was somehow sitting on a small lake. Mountains were drawn in the North and the river, Yann, seemed to flow through the city, as it did with Merkataritza, but without defined banks.
“The Erda are a strange folk,” the book began. “They are always on the move. Relaxation seems to be an unknown concept to them. They are always building, carving, crafting, harvesting, trading, and debating. How they love to argue! Rather than a monarch with strict aristocratic organization, they make all their decisions by democratic consensus (more talking), which seems to this author rather tedious and inefficient. They are so busy, they rarely sit down for a meal, but eat on the run.
The Beoford Erda lived in lodges, some of which are only accessible by swimming under water.”
Okay, weird, Heyna thought.
“Short trips around the city are by swimming the canals built and maintained by city workers. Longer trips are by canoe. Overland travel is dangerous because of the ursae, great wild bears, that roam the forests to the North. Janizaree rangers hunt the ursae to keep them from the civilized regions of Lurmunduan. Gryphon ate ursae meat and wore their fur. Ursae hunted an ate Erda. Yuck! She read on.
“The city of Beoford is an ancient land grant from the Gryphish Republic of Lurmunduan in recognition of some ancient service that no one could explain or remember. The alliance between the Municipality of Beoford and the Republic has existed for more than a thousand years. Perhaps the Gryphon have written records with details, but the Erda do not. With all their industry, written history does not seem to be one of their priorities. Nay, they are more interested in the here and now. ‘What are you doing now,’ is their common greeting. Never, ‘What did you do yesterday?’ or ‘What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?’”
Wind ruffled the pages and Heyna had to hold the paper down. She heard a laugh behind her. Someone said something about a kit with her nose in a book, and laughed again. Heyna ignored them and kept reading.
“Wood is at the center of the Erda world and world view. It is their food, their habitat, their mythology. Egur, goddess of wood and Azala, goddess of bark, sister deities, are said to rule the forest. The Erda symbol for the world is a tree. Their speech is peppered with idiomatic metaphors involving trees, trunks, branches, leaves, roots, and wood. Understanding this is key to understanding the Erda mind.”
“Some expressions:
You straight? = Do you understand?
Got bark? = You’re not eating enough.
Branches drooping? = Are you sad?
Termites? = Are you sick?
He’s dead wood. = He’s lazy.
Her teeth don’t cut. = She’s not that bright.
His roots are an inch deep. = He’s all talk.
Leaves all whistling. = In love.
Shavings all over. = Busy.
Sapling. = Kit.”
“Erda society is nominally egalitarian with a democratic polity and universal suffrage, however status, as everywhere, is elevated by wealth. While no one is, “better,” than anyone else, power differentials exist, but are not flaunted. Even wealthy Erda plead poverty. The answer to the question, “How’s business?” is invariably, “Oh! Terrible! Worst year ever.” The author has heard long arguments among wealthy Erda about who is the poorer. Meanwhile, poorer Erda do all the work and dream of being in such arguments.”
Heyna remembered hearing such arguments a time or two among the Paititi Erda, but she’d thought they were crazy. Erda worked. All that the Erda wanted to do was work. Didn’t they? Erda even worked hard at play. She couldn’t imagine what Erda that didn’t work might be like.
“Common crime is rare among the Erda as the society provides all basic needs as rights of citizenship. This practice, no doubt, is the result of the influence of the Gryphon, who have an extreme form of communitarian government where private property is severely restricted. The Gryphon hold all assets in common and provide for all the needs of their people, including the higher ones, such as education, art, music and other forms of self development and civic ornamentation. Thus, food and shelter as provided by the Beoford Erda is considered the bare minimum responsibility of the governments of the peoples of the strange continent of Lurmunduan.”
Heyna looked up. They were steaming past a promontory of pure white marble that towered over a wide river bend. A cliff, straight as an arrow, rose to a sharp peak. There was a huge sculpture of a Gryphon and an Erda. They stood side by side, in heroic poses, as if in defiance of some unseen foe. The other passengers crowded the ship’s rail gawking and pointing. Heyna flipped open the guidebook and found an illustration of the scene. “Comity Rock,” it was called. No Erda remembered when it was created. The illustration did not do it justice.
The figures were ten times life size. Not carved in the blocky style of the Gryph, but fluid and lifelike. They seemed to move, to reach for some common goal, in mutual support, Gryphon wing spread over Erda shoulder, Erda hand on Gryphon flank. “The Erda, Shevna, and the Gryphon, Rokalaria, stood together. In the absence of history, many fanciful tales are told of these obvious friends,” Heyna read.
The sight sent an electric thrill through Heyna’s body and her fur stood out in wonder.
*
Arriving in Beoford was underwhelming. Through a gray drizzle, Heyna saw low wooden and stone structures rising from the water from riverbank to riverbank and as far North as the eye could see. The river flowed around and through irregular blocks of buildings forming what would be streets in a city such as Merkataritza-hiria. The buildings were all wide and squat, some with stone footings.
Everything smelled damp. The wood was all swollen and sagging, seeming to want to surrender to the flood. Here and there, stone towers rose to several stories, the tallest structures in sight. Silos, Heyna guessed. There were little domes of what looked like driftwood, everywhere. The guidebook had identified these as lodges where the Erda lived.
The water teemed with people. They swam in all directions, dipping beneath the flood and reappearing, or not. Going into the underwater lodge entrances, maybe. The guidebook had described the city, but to Heyna, who lived her whole life high and dry, Beoford looked a dreadful mess.
The Fortitude abruptly dropped anchor in the center of the river and the Erda passengers began diving off the deck directly into the water. Heyna stared in dismay and looked down at her bag full of things that would be ruined by the water. She sat so long in confusion, that a an Erda deckhand noticed.
“Here!” he shouted. “You’ll want a carryall to keep your dry stuff in. Can let you have one for a fiver, if you’ve got the Gryph. Tenner for copper. No jewelwood about ye, nay? Give you three for that.”
Heyna gave him five steel Gryphish coins and he handed her a sort of duffel bag of some waterproof material and weights in the bottom. It had strings, compartments, and baffles that Heyna couldn’t understand. She struggled with the strange sack for a while, until the deckhand snatched it and her stuff from her with a sigh.
“Like this, ya daft sapling.” He stowed her gear in one compartment, pulled a drawstring that cinched tight, closed another, then pulled a third cord that pushed air out of the whole contraption. “There! Stay dry and won’t float. Over you go.” He indicated the rail. Heyna looked into the water in alarm. Where was she going? The deckhand laughed. “New to the watery world eh, kit? No worries. Swim upstream for half a league, that way, see.” He pointed. “Got a visitor center, see. Get you sorted.”
Heyna was still terrified. She could swim, of course, but never that far at one go. She stood at the rail and stared at the water, sack across her body. She felt strong hands grab her and suddenly she was falling overboard. She hit the water and gulped a mouthful, sputtering and cursing.
“That way, kit!” the helpful sailor shouted and laughed. “That way,” he pointed and disappeared back onto the deck.
The water was cold and the sky was gray. Heyna’s glasses were water spotted. She couldn’t see very well above the water, but when she slipped her glasses off and looked under, the water was silty and dim. She swam to the nearest dry thing she saw and climbed up to get her bearings. It was one of the lodge domes. But in a flash there was someone in the water screaming at her.
“Get off my roof! Termites in the brain or something?”
Heyna tried to ask a question, but the person advanced on her, still screaming. She quickly eyeballed the largest building in view, jumped back in the water and swam for all she was worth. After an underwater sprint, she was at the shore of a stone platform. There was a line of Erda carrying brown glass bottles queued up before the door of a square building.
Someone wearing an ironwood helmet and carrying a shield and steel-tipped spear waved her toward the line.
“Over there,” was all he said.
“Please, I’m new. I just need directions.” The officer, for that is what Heyna thought he was, looked at her sharply.
“Off the boat eh, Kit?”
“Yes.” Heyna pointed back at the steamer that still sat at anchor. “I… Where’s the Visitor Center?”
“Well, I can help if you got a copper?” The officer asked in a strange accent that made the statement sound like a question. Heyna’s hackles went up.
“Pay you for directions? You a mercenary?” The words were out before she realized what she was saying. The officer advanced on her. He was bigger and heavier than her, and armed.
“Looking for trouble, eh?” He pointed the spear at her. “This is the Bureau of Collection, see? I’m collecting.” He waved the spear at the queue of Erda with their bottles. “They’re paying, ain’t they? You want the Visitor Center, you pay.”
Heyna fished out a copper and tossed it to the officer. He bowed and tapped the haft of his spear to his shield and spoke with exaggerated deference.
“Thank you kindly, miss. The Visitor Center is that way,” and he pointed with his spear at the steamer and turned away laughing. Heyna looked that way and could see the helpful seaman on the deck frantically pointing North. She looked in that direction and saw a tall wooden structure. She waved thanks, and turned to take in the landmarks. A cluster of buildings of three different heights sagging off to the right and an open stone platform with kits playing on the left. A huddle of lodges around two hundred meters ahead, more low buildings, then the tower.
Heyna jumped back in the water and swam until her tail ached. She slipped out of the water to rest where the kits were frolicking, but they stopped immediately. They stared at her, not in fear, but curiosity. They came forward and reached out to touch her. One grabbed her carryall and tugged. She jerked back and looked at the strange youngsters. They were bigger than Tototlan kits, fatter, more muscular. They smelled hostile.
“I’m…” she tried to say.
“We know. You’re new. What you want here?”
One reached for her bag again. She turned and dove back into the water. She swam toward the visitor center, and this time she didn’t stop in spite of her aching tail.
When she finally reached the building, Heyna pulled herself up and looked around. There was a short queue at the door guarded by a couple of armed officers. The tower looked to be six stories tall, a skyscraper by Beoford standards. The wooden structure was of sturdy and rough logs, with only a little scroll-work around the doors and windows. It sat on a wide stone platform.
There was another queue leading into the building. Heyna recognized some of her fellow passengers from the Fortitude, the Erda that she thought as the pretty ones, Erda with fancy and expensive adornments.
She got on the back of the line, just as one of the pretties raised her voice.
“Look we’ve been waiting forever. We just want to register. What’s the hold up?”
“Citizens first, eh?” said the guard holding out his hand. The pretty handed him her identification badge and he dropped it on the ground. “Waiting can be a pain, can’t it?” he said, and held out his hand again. The pretty picked up her badge and put a coin in the guard’s hand. He glanced at it and waved her through the door.
Heyna heard someone in the queue whisper to her companion, “I thought this was supposed to be a civilized city.” When it was her turn, Heyna quickly paid her copper and found herself in a wide room.
The travelers again queued up. This time to counters with clerks handling the registration. She got in the shortest line and took in the scent of frustration, and heard the occasional raised voice. Clan scents were clearest, but there were some that she couldn’t place. When it was her turn, she moved to the counter and presented her badge, which was jewelwood and obviously Quetz. The clerk took one look and whistled. A door opened behind her and another clerk came up and touched her arm.
“Come with me, please?” she said and indicated the open door.
“What’s the matter?” Heyna asked. She almost blurted out, another shakedown? But she already knew it was. She followed the clerk into a smaller room with several guards at the doors.
“Please open your carryall and place your belongings on this counter. Any contraband?”
“Excuse me?” The clerk pointed at a sign on the wall. Heyna read, “The following are prohibited: Weapons, Gold, Live Insects,”(did Quetz visit Beoford?), “alcoholic beverages, agricultural products…” and the list went on. Heyna didn’t see anything that she was carrying, so she said,” No. No contraband.”
She spilled out the contents of her bag onto the counter. Her shaping tools, her money, the vial of chichitl shaping gel, spare glasses, svella bark, and the gernu forging flux. The clerk’s eyes widened and she rubbed her glasses and looked closer at the bottle of gernu. She began writing furiously. She then composed herself and spoke nonchalantly to Heyna.
“Are you a smith?” She indicated the gernu.
“No, I’m not.”
“Where did you get such a large quantity?”
“It was a gift… from my former employer.”
“Employer?”
“Councilor Xanna Plesh, Chairman of the High Council of the Quetzalcoatl Oligarchy,” Heyna said with the most dignity that she could muster. The clerk looked skeptical.
“Well well!” She turned and conferred quietly with another clerk. When she turned back, she said, “We are impounding this vial until we can verify that it is not stolen property. Chairman, you say?” she was smirking. “Fill out this form and we’ll get back to you. Where are you staying?”
Heyna’s hackles went up in fury, stolen? She’s accusing me of being a thief! But she couldn’t speak, she was so angry. Somehow, she controlled herself and spoke with only a slight strain in her voice.
“Impound, yes, I suppose that would be wise. I wouldn’t want to be walking around with something so valuable in my bag anyway. I’m sure that Xanna will vouch for me. My people have worked for her family for hundreds of years. I will be writing to her myself immediately to let her know that her gift to me is in your care, uh… what was your name again?”
The clerk’s expression hardened. Heyna was sure that she was extremely familiar with this type of attempted coercion. She dropped the gernu into an envelope, marked it with a rubber stamp, and put it in a drawer.
“Administrator Beama, at your service.”
“Beama. Thank you. My receipt?”
Administrator Beama pulled a receipt book from a different drawer and slapped in on the counter. She scribbled furiously.
“One pound and SIX ounces,” Heyna said.
“Six,” Beama snapped, and amended the receipt. She carefully tore it out of the book and handed it to Heyna.
“Thank you, Administrator Beama, I will commend your diligence to Mrs. Plesh. Now, if that is all?”
“Hardly. There is the matter of your registration fee, your lodging fee, you security fee and your processing fee. How would you like to pay? Steel, copper, jewelwood?” Heyna’s heart sank.
So, this was Beoford. The, “home,” of the Erda. Heyna was far from impressed. She dropped her money on the counter in disgust.